


Down the Rabbit Hole

by misura



Category: Terra Nova (TV)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 20:51:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3223061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Fight for us,</i> they'd said, <i>and we'll take care of you, after.</i> (Mira, pre-canon)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Mira/Wash, they had to keep it a secret_ (megan_moonlight)

_Fight for us,_ they'd said, _and we'll take care of you, after._

Any fool would have probably seen that particular offer for the fool's gold it had been - Mira'd been impressed by a lot of what she'd seen of her employers, but she didn't think their influence would extend beyond the grave.

Hell, she didn't even think most of them would _get_ a grave.

She hadn't been particularly impressed by their keen strategic insight, either, but, well, they'd had the good sense to recruit other people to deal with that kind of thing for them. People like her. People who still had some ideals left, some dream of getting a better life, either for themselves or for their loved ones. A second chance, however slim.

_Given a thousand men, I might have made a difference. I might have made things happen._

They'd given her twenty, instead. Thanks to her skills and street smarts, thirteen of them were still alive, for all the good that would do them.

"We gonna surrender?" Jonas asked. Jonas was big, and strong, and very stupid.

He'd be a good friend to have in prison, assuming they'd survive that long.

"No," she said, checking the recharging unit of her gun. It was a cheap gun. Hinky. "Not yet."

 

Barely half an hour later, there were only seven of them left - maybe eight, depending on whether or not Becka's head wound was as bad as it looked. (Mira knew head wounds sometimes looked more serious than they were. Then again, there was a lot of stuff that could get damaged up there.)

Mira would have called the situation 'tricky', if not for the fact that there was someone in military grade full body armor pointing a gun at her. As such, the word 'hopeless' seemed much more applicable.

"Put your weapons down, and keep your hands where I can see them."

A woman's voice.

"You gonna take us in alive?" Mira asked. Not putting her weapon down, which was either a calculated gesture or an empty threat, depending on how you looked at it.

"That's the plan." The gun didn't move. Smart.

"Fine," Mira said. "I'll hold you to that."

 

The trial was a farce, which was hardly a surprise. All eight of her men survived long enough to be there, which was - and if she was stupidly sentimental for getting attached to a bunch of people she'd only known for three weeks, then fine.

She didn't see Sienna there, or Layla, which might be good. Or bad.

The verdict came in at three years, in the end, which the judge informed them all was extremely lenient - as it was, maybe, if you considered the number of people who'd simply been shot out of hand, or had had an accident after being captured.

Sienna'd be a lot bigger, three years from now.

 

Mira hadn't expected anyone to visit her in prison. It was common sense; everyone knew they kept a log of who'd come to visit one of the convicts, and clearly, no good, upright citizen would have any reason to visit a criminal.

"Hi."

The voice was familiar, but vaguely so. It had been three months. Jonas wasn't looking so good anymore these days - one stupid big guy was no match for three or four smart ones.

Becka seemed to think she was at a hotel in Rome. On good days.

"Hi," Mira said. There was a rebreather lying on the table between them. It looked old, beaten up. Not worth killing someone over.

"My name is Alicia Washington - Lieutenant Alicia Washington. 'Wash', for friends."

Given a choice between cutting a deal with a civilian and a soldier, Mira knew she'd pick a soldier every day of the week.

At least with soldiers, there was a decent chance that, when they'd stab you in the back, they'd do it literally. Quickly. Cleanly.

"Lieutenant," Mira said. "What can I do for you?"

It would be dirty, and it would be dangerous, but it would also be a chance to get out of here. To see Sienna again.

Nothing in life was free, and everything worth having came at a price.

"Tell me," Washington said. "Have you ever heard of Terra Nova?"

 

"Nineteenth century," Taylor said. "They shipped convicts _en masse_ to the colonies."

"They were still prisoners," Mira said, because yes, she'd attended her mandatory World History classes, thank you very much. "Hardly better off than slaves."

Rumor had it Taylor'd been selected to travel through the fracture, to the world beyond. A new Earth.

"Well, we've come a long way since then," Taylor said.

Mira glanced at the window, and Taylor shrugged. "Always got a few bastards who'll go and spoil it for the rest of us."

"You think you can do better?" A not entirely safe claim, even here. Even for someone like Commander Nathaniel Taylor, decorated war hero.

"I think I can make sure that whatever's behind that fracture isn't going to eat the people who can," Taylor said pleasantly. "Or drown or burn them - hell, we don't know _what's_ going to be there."

"Just that it'll be dangerous," Mira said.

"Life is dangerous," Taylor countered. "You want to be safe, you can go back to prison." Mira sneered; Taylor chuckled. "Didn't think so."

"Why me?" What she wanted to ask was: _what about my daughter?_ It would be showing her hand too quickly, though; for whatever reason, Taylor had put it into his head that he wanted her along on his trip to Neverneverland. That was leverage, right there.

"No reason." Or not. "Wash seems to like you."

_'Wash' for friends._ And some fairly impressive friends they were.

"She said you were smart," Taylor went on. "I'm betting that if you're smart enough to know when to give up, you're also smart enough to know when not to."

"You're not looking for 'smart'," Mira said.

"Well, smart and a damn good fighter," Taylor said. "Vicious, I believe the word she used was. So. Do we have a deal?"

_Now or never._ "I have a daughter."

"No children on the first trip," Taylor said. "The second one, we can talk about."

"Why don't we talk about it now?" Mira's mouth felt dry.

"Because I," Taylor said, "am a very busy man. You're getting the kind of second chance most people can only dream about - why don't you take it, be grateful you got it, and shut up?"

"Vicious, did you say?"

Taylor scowled. "And it would seem she was right. Fine. Talk away."

"I want her to be safe." That didn't sound very vicious. "Please." Neither did that.

On the other hand, it might sound smart.

"How's this?" Taylor asked. "I'll assign her a bodyguard, if you agree to have dinner with the poor sap."

_That's probably the weirdest thing I've heard today. The great, brilliant Commander Taylor acting as a pimp._ She wondered what was wrong with the 'poor sap'. Scars, probably - a missing limb or two.

"Just dinner," Taylor said, clearly reading her feelings off her face. "I promise. No monkey business - well, not unless you want to."

"I doubt it. You see, I don't swing that way."

For some reason, Taylor looked amused. "What, to poor saps? Why, what's wrong with 'em?"

"Men," Mira said.

Taylor chuckled. "I've heard Wash being called a lot of things, but 'man' hasn't been one of them. So far."

"Wash." Well, that was unexpected. Not the least because she'd assumed Lieutenant Washington would definitely be among Taylor's chosen few.

"Be nice to her, will you?" Taylor said, turning and reaching for his plex. "She deserves to have something nice in her life. Oh, and no need to tell her about this part of our deal."

"Of course."

"Or anyone else, for that matter. It'll be our little secret, eh?" Taylor grinned at her.

If this was all an act to trick her into ... something, he was certainly putting in a lot of effort - and a far better actor than people generally gave him credit for.

"Yes, sir." She mock-saluted him.

He sighed. "Good. Then _now_ can I get back to work?"


End file.
